Nisi Per Caritatem
by DracoTitillo
Summary: Magic can be a fickle beast, especially ancient spells. Sometimes they do more harm than good, sometimes not, and sometimes that's a risk worth taking, but who should choose? As soon as the war died down the world was supposed to go back to normal. That was all Hermione wanted. It was all Draco wanted. Sometimes, normal is a lot to ask when the fickle beast is lying in wait.
1. Prologue

~~ Prologue ~~

The clacking of heels was the only sound on the marble floor, except it wasn't a calm clacking, but instead more of a terrified clamor. She could hear it echoing down the hall and only hoped they wouldn't hear or find her for at least a few minutes more. She hadn't even found the right room yet. As she turned down another corridor, she could hear the elves cooing over the baby. Quietly the door creaked open as she snuck in and ordered the two elves cleaning up the bloody baby to leave. Less than three hours old and Draco was perfect, not much in the way of hair, but with the genetics of his mother and father, that would be fixed rather quickly, and perfect stormy grey eyes. Narcissa looked down with joy and sadness. He would be her only son the healer informed her. Her body would not be able to carry another child to term. She was lucky she even got Draco this far. Narcissa checked him over, ten fingers, ten toes and still a bit of blood left from birth. "Perfect," she breathed as she pulled out her wand. She knew she didn't have much time until Lucius came looking for them. He would only wait so long before he wanted to introduce _his_ heir to the wizarding world. They had already to begun to gather as soon as she went into labor last night. With the symbols carved on the floor, she laid Draco on the floor swaddled in his grey blanket knit with strands of silver. No one blinked an eye when that had been her requested baby gift, of course the top pure blood witch would want only the best for her son, no one thought of any other reason than vanity, least of all a spell. Before he could start to cry, Narcissa began the wand-work and chanted "Nisi per caritatem operatur faciemus, tactus enim non nisi per incipere." She vanished the symbols on the floor and cradled Draco to her chest as she sat down for the first time since giving birth. Finally, she turned her wand toward herself, whispered "Obliviate," and the world went dark.


	2. Chapter One

~~ Chapter One ~~

"You have to take it for the trial to continue," Jones said as they were guided to a small room. "You have five minutes to realize this is the only path for you. The Wizengamot requires this new truth serum at every Death Eater trial. It's a new formula created by your late godfather, Severus, that no one has had the chance to build up immunity to. Without taking it, they presume you guilty and give you life at Azkaban."

Draco closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples, "There are things that don't need to come to light that people might be tempted to ask when I have no self-control, what's to stop them?"

Jones nodded, as if he expected this concern, "Your mother already went through this, and only the chief warlock can ask questions. Currently that is acting Minister Kingsley and he's quite competent at withholding his curiosity. As I said, without answering questions, you will go to Azkaban. Answering their questions gave your mother only house arrest and reparations. Take the serum, Draco."

There was a knock at the door as an auror looked in to guide them back to the dungeon. Dementors were no longer used in the Ministry of Magic or at Azkaban. Certain groups of people found them quite inhumane and thought they may have been part of the reason dark wizards were much worse during the second wizarding war. For that, Draco was grateful. As he sat back in the defendant's chair and the chains began to wrap around his ankles, he looked at the vial in front of him. Before his hands were locked down, he grabbed it and swallowed the entire thing.

Draco looked up as he heard Kingsley's voice boom out across the room, "You decided then it seems, so we will give it a few minutes and ask the test question." The whispers started and Draco heard a clank of coins being shuffled around. His interest as to the first question was raised as it seemed members were taking bets on his possible answer.

"Don't fight it, just answer the question," he heard Jones whisper from behind him.

"Let's begin. Draco, what is your happiest memory, the moment you were most free and joyful?" Draco's hands jerked as he heard the question. No, anything but this. His teeth clenched as he tried not to answer. The whispers in the crowd grew as more coins were exchanged.

"The second my father's casket was lowered into the ground and dirt began to cover it." All sound in the room ceased. Not a coin nor a gasp to be heard. As Draco met the gaze of the 50 members of the Wizengamot, only a few had the expected disgusted looks, instead it was worse, pity. Every pair of eyes held pools of pity looking at him, seeing his most vulnerable, because his only moment of complete happiness so far was the burial of his father. Not even death assured Draco that Lucius' control was gone, only once that final wave of dirt fell covering the casket was there relief, a moment to breath without concern, and now everyone would know.

"The serum is obviously working, so can we begin?" Draco asked, glaring at Minister Kingsley.

"Lets," said Kingsley looking at the members staring down at the young blond man, "And I remind everyone that nothing discussed outside of the sentencing may be spoken out once you leave this room." Draco knew that wouldn't stop all of Britain from knowing about it by tomorrow's morning paper, but he had hoped to at least make it through dinner. "Do you have the dark mark?"

"Yes," Draco answered. The interrogation continued much like that without any surprises for a few more minutes. Kingsley asking questions and Draco offering one-word responses. There was only one hiccup, and it was the final question.

"What do you think about muggles and muggle-borns?" See with the original veritaserum, the more complicated a question, the easier it was for the drinker to lie, but the new version didn't allow for that.

"I believe muggle-borns are lower, not because they have less magic ability, but because they are starting with less knowledge. Of course, it can be made up, but when a muggle-born is starting at zero, and a pureblood is starting at 75 on a scale of life that grows to 100, the pureblood will win out. Their capabilities are the same, but they don't have the experience or support of seeing family do magic from birth or being able to read magical books and be tutored early on in magical practices." Draco had a surprised look on his face as he finished but realized all he said was true. He had tutors from an early age, was reading books about magic and its theory from his family's library and watched his parents use magic all well before any muggle-born would have even though about receiving their letter from Hogwarts.

"And muggles?" Kingsley prompted?

"I don't think about muggles," was the only response Draco could give.

With that, the chains started unraveling and members started standing up, Kingsley announced a thirty-minute deliberation for the Wizengamot to decide Draco's entire future, as said defendant was led back to the small waiting room from before. Jones walked in behind him as he sat down and started fixing his tie, and then his cufflinks, and then his tie again.

"It will be fine, your mother only received house arrest for two years." Jones said when he noticed the fidgeting.

"Mother _lied_ , in the face of the Dark Lord. Me? I watched as they tortured Granger, didn't stop them when Nagini _ate_ the muggle studies teacher and let them into Hogwarts to _kill_ Dumbledore! I deserve whatever they throw at me," Draco knew his fate was sealed the moment he was called before them. They sat waiting, with Jones checking his pocket watch every few minutes until the same guard entered and led them back to the room. This time Draco didn't sit down. If they wanted to cart him away, he was going to face it like the man his father never was.

"Draco Malfoy," Kingsley began, "You are found guilty of being a Death Eater, for supporting the man formerly known as Lord Voldemort for a period of 18 months, though it is noted that most of that was unwillingly, and for letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts during your sixth year. This cannot go unpunished. Therefore, the Wizengamot has decided that your punishment will be such: To learn life on the other side, you will live as a muggle, with no wand or support system from this day until September 2nd. Come September 2nd, you will report to Kings Cross station where you will be given back your wand and board the train to repeat your 7th year. The following summer will be spent in house arrest and then your sentence will be served."

As he turned to head out the door behind him, Jones could hear Draco whisper, "Happy birthday to you Draco."


End file.
